


touch and go

by etymology



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, deal with it i guess!!, lesbian eve polastri, lesbian villanelle, phoebe said 'it was love at first sight' soooo, villaneve is canon is what im saying, yes they're both lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-21 21:53:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14294268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etymology/pseuds/etymology
Summary: “Why are you in my hotel room at 3 a.m.,” says Eve.“I could not sleep,” says Villanelle, shrugging.Eve narrows her eyes. “Are you kidding me.”(Or, the one where Eve keeps hiding Villanelle from the authorities.)





	touch and go

**Author's Note:**

> this show is slowly taking over my entire life

//

It’s instinctive, primarily.

Villanelle drops down onto the balcony of her hotel room, and Eve has about three seconds to hide her before the police officers on her floor knock on her door. So, of course, she shoves Villanelle into the en suite bathroom and pulls the door shut behind her, holds onto the knob for a touch longer than she ought to.

Eve tells the police a half-truth: that she isn’t entirely sure she has seen her, but she did see a honey-coloured blur (not in those words, thank god) running down the corridor, and it could have been the woman they were looking for.

They leave, thanking her for her help, and when she opens the door to the bathroom, she finds Villanelle sitting on the edge of the bath, smirking. It’s rather unattractive and not at all endearing. Eve hates it.

“You have to go,” says Eve, holding the door open, because she will get fired (again) if she’s harbouring a fugitive, especially if it’s the same one she’s been after for five months, give or take a few days.

Villanelle walks past her; saunters past her, really, and leans down, presumably to make sure that Eve can feel her hot breath against her cheek.

“We will continue this later,” says Villanelle, as if they had gotten interrupted during an actual conversation and she hadn’t just broken into Eve’s room to escape the cops.

Eve closes her eyes. Villanelle smells of something floral—roses, perhaps?—except it’s much sharper than any fragrance that Eve has ever known before.

“Can you please just-” says Eve, into thin air, because Villanelle is not in the room anymore, leaving Eve standing there, talking to an assassin who’s already left.

She does not think about what her instinct had been at all, and the next morning, Elena tells her to take the pill she had stashed in her suitcase—this one will keep her from falling asleep at her morning meetings, which is good; she’s supposed to be making a good impression—because it’s obvious that she hasn’t slept all night.

//

Two days later, Eve wakes up to find Villanelle watching her.

“Why did you lie?”

She’s sitting on the armchair that Eve has started piling clothes on top of. There are no clothes on it anymore. Eve hopes Villanelle didn’t take them. Again. Eve is considering breaking and entering into wherever Villanelle lives just to get some of her stuff back.

“Why did I- what the fuck.”

“The officers,” says Villanelle, leaning closer. “You lied to them when you said that you had not seen me. I was in your en suite.”

“Why are you-” says Eve, blinking out the exhaustion and turning on the lamp on her bedside table. “Why are you in my hotel room.”

“You first,” says Villanelle, and Eve can barely see her, even in the lamplight, but she can see the reflection off her grin, and that should honestly worry her, but it just makes her annoyed with the blonde—if that is even her natural hair colour. It probably isn’t.

Eve does not tell her the truth, which is that hiding her, _protecting_ her, was the first thing that came to mind. That is more of herself than she is willing to simply hand over to Villanelle. (She is not willing to hand over any part of herself to Villanelle.)

She gives Villanelle the excuse she had come up with for her own peace of mind; “I want to catch you myself, before you get caught on a technicality or something just as stupid. What did they want you for, anyway? You haven’t killed anyone since that guy in Berlin, have you?”

“You know about Berlin?”

“Duh,” says Eve.

“I might have stolen a necklace,” she replies. Eve’s jaw drops, because _really?_ Villanelle leans closer to Eve. “It is the only one of its kind.”

“You’re an idiot,” says Eve.

“So, you are going to catch me, then?”

Her accent slips— _Russian_ , Eve thinks. _Fuck._

“Why are you in my hotel room at 3 a.m.,” says Eve, frustrated, and annoyed. There is no reason why Villanelle should have come back to a place that she was almost arrested from, the place where _Eve_ is, and yet here she is. Sitting there; tapping her fingers against her armchair.

“I could not sleep,” says Villanelle, shrugging.

Eve narrows her eyes. “Are you kidding me.”

“I want to know why you protected me,” she says, and her eyes wander away from Eve’s for a split second—but it’s enough for Eve to figure out that Villanelle really _does_ want to know why, and this isn’t another one of her games.

“First off, I was not _protecting_ you-”

“You hid me from the police.”

Eve stutters on her response, because, well. She had. That is not in question. Villanelle was running from the cops and Eve hid her in the en suite bathroom.

Still. “That’s not even remotely the same thing.”

“In my line of work, it is,” says Villanelle, and gives Eve another shrug. Her eyes linger on the way her blouse slips down a little, revealing more of the blonde’s clavicle.

“In your ‘line of work’,” repeats Eve, grinding her teeth together out of annoyance. She was craving coffee. Jet lag had nothing on Villanelle, apparently. “Well, in _my_ line of work-”

“You hide assassins in bathrooms?” says Villanelle, with a smile on her face that crinkles her eyes. Eve wishes she hadn’t even noticed that.

“We do not-” Eve starts.

“ _You_ did.”

“Well, if I had known that you would be giving me hell for it at 3 in the morning, I would have let them take you,” says Eve, pushing her blanket off of her body.

“You don’t mean that.”

Eve bites her tongue before it betrays her, tastes the blood before she relaxes.

Villanelle isn’t there when she wakes up the next morning.

//

The second time she ends up hiding Villanelle from the authorities, Eve is pretty sure it’s planned.

“You _kill_ people for a living,” she says, looking at Villanelle, who’s got a cut on her arm that needs to be tended to. Eve is decidedly _not_ going to be the one to tend to it.

“Exactly why hiding from special agents is necessary,” says Villanelle, smiling at her. Eve wishes the other woman would stop _looking_ at her like that. It’s irresponsible, to go around _smiling_ at people like that.

“You're unbelievable.”

“You know, this is the second time you’ve hidden me from the authorities,” says Villanelle, and Eve can hear the amusement in her tone. “One might think you’re making a habit of it.”

“One might think you’re making a habit of _almost_ getting caught,” says Eve, lowering her voice so she can hear the agents outside. She is technically hiding from her own people.

“What if I am?” asks Villanelle.

“That would be incredibly stupid and needlessly risky,” says Eve, automatic. Villanelle stiffens next to her. That’s enough confirmation for her that the blonde had indeed done it on purpose. “So stop doing it.”

“What if I want to see-” she starts, but there’s agents outside the door, so Eve clamps her hand over Villanelle’s mouth and keeps her eyes on the doorknob, hoping that they’ll get called away by some more pressing matter.

Villanelle’s breath is warm and wet against her palm, but she can’t risk moving and causing any kind of sound.

“You are not going to get caught on a technicality,” says Eve, after they’ve gone and she still hasn’t taken her hand off of Villanelle’s mouth. “So stop trying to prove whatever it is you’re trying to prove.”

Eve takes her hand away then, wipes it against her shirt because she needs it to stop burning like she’s just pulled it out of acid. She doesn’t realise how close to Villanelle she’s still standing until the blonde looks down at her and tilts her head sideways.

“You will not let them take me, will you?” asks Villanelle.

Eve freezes—she won’t, but she doesn’t want Villanelle to _know_ that. Villanelle seems to have misread her silence.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” she tells Eve, leaning closer still.

“Tell anyone about what?” says Eve, and Villanelle is the one who presses her hand against her mouth this time; just the tips of her fingers, trails them along her lips and makes Eve’s eyes flutter shut, forces a moan out from Eve’s throat.

“About that,” says Villanelle, accent slipping again.

Eve pulls away far, far too late, and there is a glint in Villanelle’s eyes that she has never seen before—that she wants to see again, god help her—and it takes her everything to just walk out of the room and run out of the building.

//

Hours later, Eve is sitting in a coffee shop down the road, wondering if it counts as listening to Carolyn’s advice if she’s sure her husband doesn’t know about the affair she’s having because she’s not actually having it yet.

Villanelle shows up eventually, sits across from her and lets her make the first move.

“Take me home,” Eve tells her. Villanelle doesn’t ask which one; instinctively knows where Eve means because she knows what Eve wants, on account of wanting it too.

Villanelle presses her back onto her bed and makes her come undone, over and over, until Eve pushes her onto the mattress and smiles down at her.

“Your turn.”

//

**Author's Note:**

> watch killing eve on sundays at 8/7c on bbc america


End file.
